Behind a Glass
by teawithmilk
Summary: [2012-verse, ghost!AU] "Her name was April," Donnie said, his voice tight and pinched. He'd been crying. Again. "Her name was April O'Neil, and she was sixteen, and I—" Couldn't save her. And now April can't move on unless he helps her.


an au where donatello failed to catch april and now she haunts him because somebody needs to still rescue her dad and they go on adventures.

turtles = nickelodeon

* * *

**-behind the glass-**

_"…there are innocent lives at stake? If we screw this up, they're all goners."_

* * *

It was going to get worse, Leo knew, when Donnie came out of his lab three mornings later clutching a printout from Channel6's website.

"Her name was April," Donnie said, his voice tight and pinched. He'd been crying. Again. "Her name was April O'Neil, and she was _sixteen_, and I—"

Leo took the piece of paper out of his brother's hands before it ended up crunched, and wished he hadn't.

ROOSEVELT HIGH STUDENT FOUND DEAD; POLICE APPEAL FOR WITNESSES

The headline was bad enough. What they'd _seen_ was bad enough (_Donnie hysterical, the girl laid out on the rooftop, her legs twitching and her eyes wide open, face pale, and blood seeping out of her nose and from under her head before they'd had to run_).

The story was worse.

April was a good student - not straight-As, but enough for a good college. She was in the science club. Wrote for the school newspaper. Her mother gone when she was thirteen. Last seen with her father walking out of a noodle bar after catching a movie. Police were asking for witnesses and also for her father, Kirby O'Neil, 47, to come forward and submit to questioning.

"Except he can't, can he, Leo? Because I messed up." Donatello swallowed. "I have to fix this."

This again. "Donnie, _no_. You heard what sensei said - we're not allowed topside again. Not for a while." And, Leo thought privately, when sensei had heard him translate the story through Donatello's hysteria, that was a kindness. They weren't ready. Not for something like this. Not for _anything_like this.

No matter how much he wanted them to be.

"We need to just stay down here, and—"

* * *

_The longer Donatello sits in front of his computer, the colder his room gets, and he keeps typing, and searching, and _looking

* * *

"And _what_? Wait for this to blow over? I just— a girl just _died_, Leo!"

"I know that!"

"She got thrown out of a freaking _helicopter_ and now her dad is practically a wanted criminal _and _probably having who-knows-what done to him by those creeps in the street, and you're telling me we're going to stay _down _HERE?"

Leo winced at the wave of supreme disgust that _rolled_ off of Donnie like a wave. His eyes were glassy again, his shoulders so far back they were digging against his shell. "Donnie," he tried again - he needed to get him to listen. Needed him to understand. "that's not what I meant. But right now we can'—"

"Don't you _dare_ tell me there's nothing we can do, because there is. There's _always something we can do_."

* * *

_because it's a week later, and he's seeing her everywhere_

_her hand pressed against the glass of the helicopter window, the bathroom mirror_

* * *

Time to put into practise the lesson they should have learned three nights ago: when to fall back, retreat, regroup.

* * *

_or in the shower, when the water doesn't run clear_

* * *

And when to just plain pick a fight.

"Donnie," he said again, trying for placating – trying for _calm_. "Look. I get that you're upset over this – we _all_ are!"

* * *

_or the thick, wet sound of her hitting the roof and his own voice screaming as hers suddenly quiets and he wakes up with Raph's hands on his shoulders and Mikey peering around his open door and she's _right there_with her arms folded and an exasperated look on her face because _this is important, Donatello!

* * *

"But sensei said that we have to stay down here—"

"Sensei's _wrong_."

The lab door slammed shut, and _and maybe we can think of a plan_ died in his throat.

_Retreat, regroup_, Leo told himself, even as Donatello's furious typing bled through the metal door.

Retreat. Regroup.

Because it was going to get worse.

* * *

_because eventually, when it's 4am and his screen is blurring and it's so cold he can feel his blood slow_

_she'll write back. The same message, again and again and again._

* * *

**hi **

**i need your help**

** my name is april **

**you tried to catch me**

** remember?**

* * *

"_Tu, uh, turtle, actually. I— I'm Donatello."_

_She smiles. Tired and trusting, and _oh_, she's pretty._

"_April."_

* * *

tbc


End file.
